


Starry Skies

by Shadowsof_thenight



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Melancholy, tiny bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowsof_thenight/pseuds/Shadowsof_thenight
Summary: Contemplating the rest of your life is daunting, especially if you have little control over it. And the person assigned to keep you safe only adds complications.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Starry Skies

**Author's Note:**

> I was working on my series, when a few ideas for one-shots just popped in my head. This was one of them and I hope you like it!
> 
> The amazing gnomewithalaptop on tumblr was my wonderful beta for this (like she if for pretty much everything I write) Thank you for all your hard work and kind words! I truly appreciate you.

You couldn’t remember a time where you had seen the stars, not like this anyway. In the city where you grew up, there was too much pollution from the surrounding lights. So you had never realised how mesmerising they could be, how magnificent their light really was. You had never seen them fall either. And right now, you were really wishing for a shooting star, one you could wish upon and change your fate. Which was why looking up was your first instinct upon exiting the cabin. The sight instantly left you breathless, as it had done so many times before in the past two months. The sheer magnitude of the galaxy was enough to render you speechless time and time again.

Quietly you sat down on the swing-set in the back of the small garden—the high fences giving you a sense of safety that you hadn’t experienced much before you’d come here either. There was still plenty of tension left in your shoulders, back, and neck, but it was significantly less and you rejoiced in the notion. You hadn’t known what it was like to relax, to not look over your shoulder 24/7. Of course, you still looked—though not as much, not with your personal bodyguard, who was currently pretending not to keep an eye on you from the living room window. You appreciated his attempt to give you some peace and quiet. He knew you needed it, needed time to gather your thoughts and face your emotions. There were so many of them, all swirling around inside of you, and they’d shaken you to the core—because you suddenly wished things were entirely different. Mostly, you wished you had been brave sooner. 

As if your feet had a life of their own, they began to move as soon as you sat down, causing the swing to gently sway back and forth. Holding on tightly to the ropes that held the swing up, you sighed deeply. A cool breeze washed over you, expelling the heat of the day. The heat had been a new experience for you; the sensation of heat clinging to your skin, unwilling to leave, wasn’t one you’d ever get used too. You wondered if you even needed too, after tonight.  
The backdoor creaked and soft footsteps followed the sound, slowly inching closer, and you smiled. Another new experience; the alleviation of stress upon the sound of approaching footsteps. A feeling you could definitely get used too. A feeling you wished you could get used too, but it wasn’t in the cards for you.

Soon you could feel his presence behind your seated frame, a source of heat standing close, and you tilted back towards the heat—allowing yourself to lean against him. Another sigh left you as his hands found your shoulders, gently trailing down your arms, and you cherished the feeling. He was so strong, unforgiving in a fight, but with you, he showed a much gentler side. He showed you a kindness and respect that you’d never known.

You smiled as it dawned on you that you’d only known him for two months now. It was funny how close you could get to people in such a short amount of time if the circumstances were right. Or perhaps he was special. In fact, you were certain he was special. He had managed to get so incredibly close, to become tethered to your heart, seemingly out of nowhere and with little effort made. It was crazy really. Though it was certainly the kind of crazy you enjoyed. The kind of crazy you would miss, as you would miss him. After tonight.

That was all you had, one more night. And you weren’t certain what would be wise. Should you tell him how you felt? Or was it better to keep it buried? Did you want to leave never knowing, or with a broken heart? There was nothing you could do now, to change the circumstances of your life, nothing you could do to keep him close. And your fate was out of his hands as well. No matter what happened next, by morning light you’d leave this cabin behind. And him with it. 

In the morning a new agent would be assigned and you’d travel onwards, while he’d go back to the city. Where he’d probably forget about you. He’d eventually find someone special, who wouldn’t need protection, who wouldn’t need to leave. You wondered if you could live with that. You had no choice. The question became, would you be able to live with the idea that he’d never know that he was your someone special? “Hey Buck,” you whispered as you felt him lean into your touch.  
“I knew you’d end up here tonight.” His deep voice was a little gravelly from lack of use—you’d spent most of the day in silence. Tense silence.

You stood up from the swing, turning quickly to face him—your fingers still lightly grasping the robe. His fingers enclosed yours, and for a moment, your eyes were drawn to the touch. Again, so gentle and caring.

“Do you think it’ll be this warm where I’m going?” you asked softly, your eyes focusing on his blue ones. “Or that I’ll be able to see the stars like I can here?”

You knew he could not answer you. He didn’t know. He wasn’t supposed to know—that was the whole deal. The fewer people knew where you were, the better off you were. Safer. Though right now, you’d trade in that safety to stay with Bucky.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, his gaze leaving you and glancing up to the sky instead. Had you seen that same melancholy you felt? Or were your eyes deceiving you?

“I know, I’m just…wondering I guess,” you said with a sigh and looked up as well.

“I hope it’ll be beautiful,” he whispered. He added a few more mumbled words that you couldn’t quite make out. He had a habit of doing that—speaking so softly that you couldn’t hear him. And not once had he repeated himself, claiming instead that he was simply talking to himself. It always spiked your curiosity, but you’d accepted by now that you wouldn’t figure it out. Perhaps if you’d had the chance, you would’ve been able to crack his hard exterior—but that wouldn’t be happening.

“Me too,” you sighed, stepping closer to him and taking your chance. Your final chance.

“I also wish you could come with me,” you added in a whisper, your hand gently placed on his chest and your eyes trained on his face. He usually managed to control his features, so you knew you had to look closely to see a response. He had a good poker face, but you had managed to uncover a few tells, and you hoped those would help you unravel it.

“Me too,” he said with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes bored into you and your heart skipped a beat.

What followed was silence where he seemed to be debating his next course of action and you patiently waited for him to make a choice. Would he give in? Or remain the professional? The answer came much sooner than you expected when he suddenly bent his head and crashed his lips into your own, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

A content sigh left your mouth as you leaned into him, cherishing any moment you could get with him and quietly wishing that the night could last forever. Alas, it was nearly midnight now and like a twisted Cinderella, you would have to leave in five hours’ time.

Your hands twisted into his shirt as you tried to get as close as possible. In the back of your mind, you were aware of the swing repeatedly bumping into your leg, but you paid it little mind when his tongue asked for entrance. You moaned into the kiss, and his hands squeezed your waist a little tighter in response to the sound before they trailed down, tapping your thighs and silently asking you to jump up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jumped, and he carried you inside—seemingly as eager to treasure these moments as you were.  
If only you have taken a chance sooner. For five hours didn’t seem enough. Nothing would ever be enough. But you pushed those thoughts out for the time being, and instead relished the feeling of his skin against your own.

All too soon, sunlight made its presence known, pushing through the thin curtains, and you quietly slid from the bed—careful not to wake Bucky. Saying goodbye was not something you’d envisioned doing. Not now. Emotions were bubbling too close to the surface. So you left, like a thief in the night. Quietly, without a word, leaving destruction in your wake.

Once you were outside, you glanced back at the cabin one more time, a lump quickly forming in your throat. After attempting—and failing—to clear your throat, you took a deep breath and walked towards the awaiting car. Leaning against it was Natasha, a solemn smile on her face—a knowing look, one filled with sympathy. It didn’t surprise you. Her ability to acquire knowledge was beyond your comprehension. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she’d seen right through you.

Without a word, she took the duffel bag from your hands and placed it gently in the trunk of her car. You thanked her softly, before walking the passenger side. There, you allowed yourself one more peek at the cabin, and as you did, a single tear slipped from your eye. You brushed it away quickly and got into the vehicle.

As soon as you were strapped in, Natasha drove off—distancing you from the cabin and the beautiful soldier inside of it. You hoped he was still sleeping. Hoped that he wouldn’t be made that you hadn’t woken him up. He had tried so hard to stay up, but he’d been on high alert for two months now and he was exhausted. Eventually, sleep had pulled him under, and you’d spent that time memorising his face, the scars on his chest, the spot where his shoulder made way for a mechanic arm. You’d traced the scars there, gentle fingers feeling the thick rugged lines that marred the skin—he’d always been so self-conscious about his scars in his waking hours, it had felt strange to touch them as he slept.

Looking down at your hands now, laying in your lap, you could almost still sense the warmth of his skin on them. It was silly, impossible of course, but you felt it all the same and it brought a smile to your face. Perhaps you could live off the memory of him.


End file.
